A Dream Of Too Many Moons.

This Is Where We Technically Cheat Through Our Escapes

(Boom, suddenly 4,000 more words. I should have more headaches.. :/)

The thieves' wagon rattled along the dusty road, its occupants bound and uneasy. Twelve shifted uncomfortably, the rough rope chafing her wrists as she stole glances at her companions.

Had the situation been lighter she would have been impressed by the amount of stuff they fit into a tiny box on wheels, the horses pulling it had to have been strong, too.

Breathing slowly once more to keep herself calm, she looked once more to her side.

Thirteen was humming a tune under his breath, seemingly lost in his own world despite their dire predicament. He was rather into it as well, tilting his head this way and that to match the rhythm and melody of his catchy song.

Maybe he had a plan..?

She leaned forwards to get a glimpse of Eleven, who was mad about the situation from the start. She sat with a steely resolve, her gaze fixed on their captors with a hint of defiance.

The knight had been protective over them from the second they got into the wagon, she was observing every new noise that wasn't a constant, she was watching the sky, the theives.. almost everything with a glare.

Twelve was just glad none of it was directed at her, and simply waited and shuffled a few times to get circulation going in her legs. Something she was not used to doing so often.

Her wrists felt sore as well, and it didn't help whenever the wagon bounced around on the dirt path.

At least they were heading the way they were supposed to..

Suddenly, one of the thieves-a man with a scar across his cheek-cleared his throat loudly, breaking the tense silence, if you didn't count Thirteen's humming, "So," he began, his tone dripping with condescension, "Folks like you have names, right, so.. spill 'em."

Twelve exchanged a wary glance with Eleven, who was silently urging her not to engage. So she remained stoic, refusing to dignify the question with a response, besides, she wasn't sure how to explain who she was and make up a fake name while at it.

Thirteen, however, seemed oblivious to the tension, as he still continued to hum, his tune growing louder as if to drown out the thief's probing questions.

The scarred thief narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed by the lack of response. "Don't play games with us, kids.." he growled, leaning closer. "We know ya'll aren't just ordinary travelers. What's yer story..?"

Twelve bit her lip, torn between being cautious or being angry. She knew engaging with the thieves could be dangerous, but their persistent questioning was causing her to panic.

Eleven finally spoke, her voice cool and measured. "Our story is that we left Utopia to go get supplies from the nearest town. That happened to be Otegiae." she replied, her words carrying an edge that warned against further inquiries.

The scarred thief scoffed, leaning back with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Still stickin' to that lie? Otegiae is a magical town, it has food sure, but I wouldn't call it supply run material." he muttered.